


Pictures

by call_it_a_miracle



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Brotherly Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, post Kyoto Saga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 15:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_it_a_miracle/pseuds/call_it_a_miracle
Summary: After Kyoto saga Yukio is having doubts about himself, his eyes, and is being consumed by self-hate. Rin is still struggling with his control over the flames and ignoring every thought that doesn’t relate to making his father’s death worth something. One day, when they’re both stuck in the darkest corners of their minds, they get a package from their temple. Inside, there’s pictures that the priests had gathered over the years.





	Pictures

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my desktop for a veeery long time. Lately i couldn't get these two out of my head so I decided to finish this and publish it. Hope you guys like it! It's my first ANE fic so sorry for any mistakes!

Blue. Everything had been blue. Even though it only lasted for a few seconds, the sight, the feel, it’s been engraved in his mind forever. 

Yukio sighs, his grip on his pen faltering, making the plastic thing fall from his grip and roll off his desk onto the wooden floor of his dorm. It’s only the start of the semester and he’s already drowning in papers to grade and classes to plan, not to mention his normal school’s homework and his work as an exorcist. Ever since he graduated from the cram school at just 13 years old, his life has been overwhelmingly saturated. 

Sometimes, he hates it. He hates waking up every day, reaching for his phone to check for any important texts or emails as he rushes to his advanced high school classes. He hates barely having time to eat lunch with his brother before rushing to cram school, where he puts on his professional persona and teaches kids that are the same age as him. He hates their expectant looks, putting pressure on him to be a good role model for them. He hates the tired afternoons either working jobs Mephisto assigns him or cleaning his guns and checking his herbal stocks. He hates achingly dropping on his bed late at night, ignoring the pain in his overworked joints and the slight snores coming from the other side of the room. He hates waking up every day, still exhausted from the previous day, reaching out for his phone-

He hates it, so much, and most days the urge to run away from his responsibilities overwhelms him to the point where he finds himself drowning in the dark, dark corners of his troubled mind. And after the whole mess with The Impure King, his confrontation with Tõdõ and Rin somehow avoiding execution once again, it’s been getting harder and harder to escape them. Lately, no matter how much he forces himself to focus on his duties, his mind still manages to wander off into endless cycles of self-hate. 

Other days, though, when a flash of light finds its way inside, he can’t help but feel grateful. He has a roof over his head, food on his plate, a job he likes and his annoying big brother by his side. The familiarity of his endless routine grounds him and keeps him focused on the important matters, like finding Tõdõ and killing the bastard and, most importantly – he reminds himself –, getting Nii-San out of trouble with the Vatican. 

He closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before reaching down for his pen. On the way up, he manages to hit himself on the head with the edge of his desk. He yelps, reaching up to nurse the throbbing pain in his scalp when the door swings open and an overly energetic Rin barges in.

“Hey, Yukio! What’s up?” 

His brother’s cheery voice never fails to annoy him, and right now is no exception. But he can’t hide the small smile that reaches his lips and the way some of the tension sips off his shoulders.

Yukio sighs again, this time long and hard before sitting up on his chair. 

“I’m currently working on next week’s demon pharmaceutics exam, so don’t get too close to my desk.” 

Rin’s shoulders sag at the reminder of another exam, making him almost drop the medium-sized box he’s currently holding. Kuro climbs down from his place at Rin’s shoulder and greets Yukio with an enthusiastic ‘meow’.

The young exorcist scratches their familiar’s chin, earning himself a content purr. “What’s that?” He asks, gesturing to the carboard box. 

Rin’s grin returns at full force, a glint of excitement lighting up his dark blue eyes. “It’s a package from the guys at the monastery! C’mon, let’s see what’s inside!”

Yukio arches his brows in surprised curiosity. He ignores the way his back protests as he stands up, adding to the dull pain on his head. The younger twin gracefully sits next to Kuro and his brother on the floor as Rin pulls out a pocket knife and opens the box. 

The twins peer inside it, their eyes scanning the contents for a few seconds before Rin reaches out for the most prominent one: a white envelope. Beneath it, an old-looking photo album sat snuggly over a bed of shredded newspapers the guys must’ve used to keep the contents from being damaged. The small smile grew slightly bigger as Yukio mentally rolled his eyes. The monastery wasn’t too far away from the academy, and the package wouldn’t have had to endure more than a few hours in a truck and some handling from the workers, the extra protection wasn’t really necessary, but then again there might be something of true importance between those time-stained leather covers.

Rin rips the top part of the envelope, sighing in relief when he finds he didn’t rip the paper inside. He unfolds the white sheet, clearing his throat and reading out loud.

_Dearest Rin and Yukio,_

_We know it hasn’t been more than a few months since your last visit, but we all miss having you two around! We understand your duties keep you busy, so this’ll suffice for now. We wanted to give you this in person, specially regarding the importance of that photo album, but we also believe it’s a private matter between you two._

_See, when father Fujimoto brought you to the monastery for the first time, we knew a big change was coming, not only for Fujimoto himself, but for the monastery and, eventually, the world. Only a couple of us knew of your true nature, and we all swore for secrecy with our lives depending on it. We hope you two understand why we never said anything, and perhaps we could seek your forgiveness._

_Anyway, when we first noted Fujimoto’s fondness towards you two, we decided we had to document it all for it could be a useful reminder when the cruel reality of your fates came to get you._

_The first couple of years, Fujimoto wasn’t aware of it. Or at least that’s what he made us believe. We should’ve known better, considering he was the Paladin. Eventually, he started taking the photos himself, even of the most insignificant things. The photos piled up over the years until you two turned fifteen._

_Now, we couldn’t fit all the photos in one album, and we didn’t want the package to be too big and suspicious – the least we’d want is to cause you more trouble than you must already be in – but we compiled what we thought must be the most relevant ones._

_Please know that you’re always welcome at the monastery. It is your home, after all. We send you all the best wishes,_

_True Cross Town Monastery._

The twins sit in silence for a few minutes after that. They knew Shirõ was fond of pictures, though he saved them for big occasions like their birthday/Christmas party. But they hadn’t really seen any pictures of their first years, much less of the time when Shirõ decided to take them in. 

Soon enough, curiosity got the better of them and without hesitation Yukio reached inside the box. The album was surprisingly heavy, and he could see a few picture edges peeking out from between the pages. He settled the heavy tome on the floor and looked at Rin for approval before opening it. The first photograph takes their breaths away.

It’s Shirõ, lying on one of the monastery’s couches, sound asleep. Both his arms are lazily draped over the tiny bundles that are Rin and Yukio, both cuddled against each other on their father’s chest. They couldn’t have been more than three months old at that point. 

“Shirõ!” Kuro cries out, jumping up and down.

Both brothers are silent for a few seconds, their hearts being squeezed tightly in a cold, ghostly grip. 

“I- I’ve never- This is-” Rin stutters, his eyes never leaving the image before him. 

“Yeah,” Yukio says, understanding perfectly well what his brother meant to say. “Me too.”

Kuro stops his movements, looking up at his masters with curiosity. He decides to stay silent and let the brothers look at the pictures in peace.

The next few pictures are variations of the first. From couches to firm chairs to even church pews, the twins always fit in their place on their father’s chest, the three of them lost in sleep. 

Then there was another one, the twins now old enough to sit on their own, where Shirõ is carefully balancing what looks like some disgustingly green mixture on one arm while he holds a spoon to little Yukio’s mouth. 

Even back then, being as young as they were, they looked very different. From Yukio’s moles and lighter hair colour to Rin’s mischievous grins and playful antics, they could always tell each other apart in almost every picture. There were some that weren’t clear enough where their tiny frames were being covered by a thick layer of blankets (they were born in the heart of wintertime, after all) and it was impossible to even guess. 

They keep flipping through the pages, their smiles growing more and more at the nostalgic feels the pictures brought. From Rin discovering his love for the culinary arts to Yukio curled up by a window reading peacefully. There were some pictures they’ve already seen, like those trips to the beach their father used to spoil them with from time to time, or those from cheesy school festivals their dad used to love teasing them about. 

But it wasn’t always just happy memories. Pictures depicting Rin’s constant cuts and bruises from the fights he would get himself into, or Yukio hiding behind either his brother or father at the sight of an ugly demon started to appear. The room grew eerily silent at these, and the album laid forgotten on the floor for a few moments. 

Finally, Yukio mustered the courage to break the silence. “Nii-San, if you don’t mind me asking, why exactly did you get into all these fights?” 

Truth be told, ever since he learned about him and his brother’s heritage Yukio always believed that it was all just part of his brother’s true demonic nature. Rin was always so impulsive, aggressive and plain territorial with any kid who dared threaten him in any way. Some of his incidents had a somewhat logical explanation, like the way he would protect a vulnerable Yukio from bullies. But other times, specially those when he was alone, there never really was an explanation for the bloody knuckles of black eyes he seemed to constantly sport. Yukio never really asked, knowing he would never get a straight answer from the half-demon, and still believing what his father told him about Rin’s true nature making itself shown. 

Now, though, everything is different. They’ve both grown so much during the past few months, maybe this time he’ll get the answer he always wanted. 

Rin sighed. “It’s stupid,” he mumbled. 

Yukio looked up at him, expectantly but patient. “Knowing you, I’m sure it’s not.”

This made Rin look up in surprise. “What?” 

“Look, don’t get me wrong. You’re a total idiot,” he ignored the glare Rin hit him with. “But you always have a reason for acting out the way you do.”

Rin’s glare disappears. For the first time since their father died, his brother is being emotionally open. Or as open as the guy can be. Something’s been bothering him since they got back from Kyoto, and Rin had done everything he could to get his brother to talk but to no avail. He knows Yukio can and will take a bunch of secrets to his grave, but maybe he can coax something out of him with this. He turns back to a picture of the both of them eating ice cream in the monastery’s garden. Cuts and bruises stood out from Rin’s pale skin under his blue shorts and white short-sleeved shirt. 

The older brother sighed again, this time long and hard, before speaking. “I… Well, it seemed like even though I didn’t know anything, other people always liked to call me a monster or a demon. I always got pissed at that because I- I thought I was just a normal kid doing normal kid stuff, kicking asshole’s butts and stuff. But apparently I wasn’t…”

Yukio frowned. “Rin, you’re not a monster.” Rin huffed out a bitter laugh, his tail flopping to the floor with a loud thud. “I mean it. You’re not even a full demon! You’re half human, too.”

“Yeah, well. Many people seem to forget about that tiny detail.”

“Still, how can you convince them about that when you can’t even convince yourself?” 

Again, Rin looked up at his brother, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. “Huh?”

“What you said, about you accepting who you are, you weren’t being completely honest. Yes, I see you’ve accepted the fangs and the tail, but what about the fact that you think that’s all there is for people to see?”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you also have a human side you have to accept. You only let people see the impulsive, childish side of you. You forget about the fact that you’re a terrible liar, and you trust people way too easily, not to mention that, as much as I hate to admit it, you’re actually very smart in ways that I can never be. But for some reason you hide this from everyone. Everyone except me, but that’s just because I’ve known you your entire life.”

Rin swallows a lump that formed in his throat. Not being able to meet his brother’s eyes, he looks down at the photo album where a particular picture captures his eye. Carefully, he reaches forward for it, holding it like the most delicate flower. 

In it, Yukio, no older than 6 years old, is hiding behind his father’s legs, gripping tightly the black fabric of his uniform. His eyes are fixed forward, and it looks like if it weren’t for father Fujimoto’s comforting hand on top of his head, the kid would’ve run away.

“And what about you, four-eyes?” He asks, his voice a tad deeper than usual. His eyes never leave the picture as he speaks. “You owe me many explanations, too. Like, how was it training as a kid? Why did you choose to also become a dragoon? What was it like to fight by dad’s side? Come on, you must have some really cool stories under your belt!” 

Yukio looked down at the picture between his brother’s hands, feeling something akin to shame and disgust twist in his gut. He swallowed it all down and took a calming, deep breath. His brother would never let this go, so there was no use in trying to get him to. All he can do is humour his older brother with bits and pieces of the cruel reality that was his childhood. “It wasn’t as cool as you make it sound, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” 

Memories of being forced to look at ugly demons, getting yelled at for showing any form of fear, hearing the screams of agony from demons being drowned in holy water, being forced to learn close-range combat, and many other traumatizing events he’s had to endure since he was just 7 years old surge in his mind. He forces himself to tense up to avoid shivers shaking his entire frame. It’s been a long time since he was confronted by the strong feelings, though it definitely doesn’t compare to recent events. 

He clears his throat, forcing himself to sound normal. “It was very scary, at first. But I guess you already know what it feels like. And it was very hard to get people to take me seriously. The only reason I was given a chance was because dad was the Paladin. I was treated like a burden until I got to go on my first mission just after we turned 10 years old.” 

“How was it? Did you kick any demon butt?”

“Hardly. I was completely terrified, I missed all my shots and I almost shot dad once. After that they all agreed to be stricter.”

His throat goes dry. He clears it a few times, eventually giving up and reaching for the bottle of mineral water he had resting on his desk. He took deep breaths and focused on Rin’s voice, chasing away the dark, dark memories. 

“Wait, so you trained for dragoon from the start?” Yukio nodded. “Why? Was it because dad was one too?” 

He sat back down next to his brother, cringing when he accidentally stepped on one of Kuro’s tails. The cat sidh hissed at him and jumped back to Rin’s bed. Yukio threw him an apologetic look before focusing back on his brother’s questions. “As the Paladin, dad had already mastered all meisters. It is true that he was fond of his dragoon abilities and, of course, I wanted to be like him, but I chose to become a dragoon mostly because I wasn’t as good or as experienced with more close-ranged combat and I wasn’t fond of aria attributes. I do have some talent for tamer, but it didn’t look as appealing as dragoon did.”

“And ever since we were little kids you’ve always wanted to be a doctor.” Rin said, a soft smile taking over his previously shadowed features. 

“Yeah…” 

There’s a long pause. Yukio picks up the album again and flips the pages, being hit with pictures of his graduation ceremony when he received his exorcist badge. He was so young compared to the other graduates, but the look of pure steel on his face made him look several years older. As it was custom, the Paladin was handing out the badges, and Yukio can still remember the proud smile his father sported at mentioning his name out loud and handing him his official qualifications. He was also one of the few to get more than one meister, and the compliments he’d received that evening did wonders to his otherwise depleted self-esteem. 

“Woah, Yukio you’re so cool!” Rin’s usual child-like grin returned to him with such force that Yukio himself couldn’t help himself but return it in the shape of one of those rare smiles that let his dimples out on display.

A glint of mischief appears on Yukio’s light blue eyes. “Indeed. I am the ‘cool twin’ after all.” 

“Huh?! Who the Hell would even think that, four-eyes?!”

Yukio smirked, not bothering to spare Rin a look. “Everyone.”

“Everyone?! Nu-uh! Shura calls you a ‘scaredy-cat’ all the time! And I once heard Mephisto say-”

Yukio rolled his eyes. “Ok, Nii-San, how about this? We’re both cool in our own ways,” he said, adjusting his glasses over his nose. “Except that obviously I am way cooler than you.”

Rin gaped at his brother in disbelief, his tail swaying from side to side in annoyance behind him. “You know what? I-”

“Rin.” Yukio chastised his brother, getting rapidly annoyed by the pointless banter. “Let’s just keep looking at the pictures.”

And so, they did. Yukio was glad it was his free day, since it took them a surprisingly long amount of time to finish looking through all the pictures. 

And really, there was no real need for them to do so. In the end, they all showed the same thing. The love their father had for them even though he knew about their demonic inheritance. It was weird, and it shocked Yukio to notice just how much of his father has already slipped from his memory. It hasn’t even been more than 6 months since the man died and he can barely remember his voice. The feeling is bitter on his tongue and heavy on his chest, but he can’t help but think he doesn’t care enough. 

The dark thoughts crawl back inside his head like rats to a hole, swift, fast and unforgiving. One question echoes inside his head, pounding at the walls and begging to be answered. 

_Why in the hell would someone like Shirõ Fujimoto spare the lives of the bastard sons of Satan?_

Sooner or later, he **will** find the truth.


End file.
